


pretend like we don’t know

by dygonilly



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Established Relationship, Except maybe Jihoon, Explicit Consent, Floor Sex, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, None of them are capable of shutting up, Past Wonhui, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism, no spontaneous group sex we discuss it ahead of time like adults, past soonhoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28971480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dygonilly/pseuds/dygonilly
Summary: “Soonyoung wants you to fuck him,” Wonwoo tells Jihoon plainly. Soonyoung squeaks and Junhui’s head tips back in a loud peal of laughter.(or,Hey man I know we're not a thing anymore but my boyfriend wants to have sex with you and also his ex is gonna be there haha let me know if you're down)
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 25
Kudos: 314





	pretend like we don’t know

**Author's Note:**

> [looks at the camera] [looks at the _light a flame_ choreo] [takes a long, loud sip of juice]
> 
> three guesses where the title is from lmao. four people really is too many but the 96 tag deserves this. we All deserve this.
> 
> have fun enjoy wahoo

“Thank you all for coming,” Soonyoung says.

Wonwoo frowns. “Shouldn’t you save that for afterwards?” 

“Great point.” Soonyoung resets his expression. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered—”

“Soonyoung it’s a foursome, not a legal ceremony.”

“Well you write the script then! If you’re so good at it.”

Wonwoo huffs a laugh and unfolds himself from the couch to pull Soonyoung into his arms, hands on his cheeks. Soonyoung lets him squish his mouth into a funny fish-shape. Wonwoo kisses it. 

“Why don’t we just wing it?” he suggests.

Soonyoung sighs. “Yeah. Alright.”

Wonwoo has never successfully winged anything in his life. He’s not sure why he thought now would suddenly be different. Truthfully, he was counting on Soonyoung to just know what to do, because he’s good at things like this—things where his body is the centre of attention, the main means of communication—but truthfully, Wonwoo forgot that Soonyoung also gets nervous.

Jihoon has been here for fifteen minutes and Soonyoung is acting like they’ve never touched each other before.

Wonwoo watches them talk, sitting a safe distance apart on the couch, and wonders how the hell they ever went from coworkers to fuck buddies. Well, he knows, because Soonyoung has told him the story in excruciating detail: how he used to push Jihoon, used to nudge and bother and pester him, delighting in the way Jihoon would recoil and spit back before he would soften. How it started to turn into a game, bubbling under their skin but never flowing to the surface until Seungcheol locked them in the printing room one afternoon and texted them to get it out of their system and call him when they were done. Wonwoo hates that story; they went to buy stationery a week later and he almost got hard in the printing section. Soonyoung wouldn’t let it go for months.

All that to say: Wonwoo expected them to be more comfortable around each other. But they’re both acting so shy and overly casual that it’s painful to watch.

Thank god for Wen Junhui.

The buzzer rings and Soonyoung leaps up with a, “Got it!” and one minute later Junhui walks through the front door and shatters the awkwardness that Jihoon brought in with a loud, open-mouthed kiss to Soonyoung’s lips.

“Sorry I’m late, did you guys start already?” he asks, wiping his mouth and walking past a dazed Soonyoung to deposit a bottle of wine on the table and toss his coat over the back of a chair. Wonwoo is intimately acquainted with Junhui’s body. Two years of living together and fostering a (probably unhealthy) roommate relationship wherein they fucked regularly and didn’t mention it in between means that Wonwoo has seen him naked almost as many times than Soonyoung. The number was quickly surpassed, however, because Soonyoung is a) horny and b) averse to wearing clothes around the apartment. Two things Wonwoo has no complaints about.

“We didn’t start,” Wonwoo says, cheeks hot from watching Junhui kiss his boyfriend. “Hi,” he adds softly when Junhui turns to face him. Junhui closes the distance between them and taps Wonwoo’s cheek with his index finger.

“Hello,” he says easily. His fingertip moves under Wonwoo’s chin like an invitation. Wonwoo takes it. Kissing Junhui is slow and hot and easy. Wonwoo has become so used to tipping his face down ever so slightly to kiss Soonyoung that he has forgotten this: being guided upwards like a flower, just a little, just enough that Wonwoo remembers instantly and viscerally how Junhui used to cover him entirely when they fucked, how his shoulders would build shadows above him and Wonwoo’s body would bend to fit.

He’s bulked up since they were together, but so has Junhui. Time continues to hold his beauty in place like marble. Wonwoo chases his mouth when they pull apart, and Junhui titters cutely, lips stretching into a rectangular smile. “You taste nice,” he says.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo says. Clears his throat. “It’s the whisky.”

“It’s the whisky,” Junhui mimics, voice comically deep. He turns to face their audience, and it’s a beautiful kind of whiplash, the way he goes from sensual to giddy enthusiasm in the space of a heartbeat. “Hey. Jihoon, right?”

Right. Jihoon.

“Yeah. Hi.” He looks relaxed, legs spread on the smaller couch, drink lazy in his hand, but he’s looking at Junhui with interest that makes his eyes sharp. Sharper than they have been all night.

(“I showed him a photo of Jun and he almost choked, so yeah, I’d say he’s down,” Soonyoung had said, breathless from the way Wonwoo was fucking into him. “But he can still fuck me, right? Because he does this thing with his hips where he—”)

“Wonwoo-yah?” asks Soonyoung. “You wanna sit down?”

Wonwoo blinks a few times. Everyone is looking at him. “Um. Yeah.” He moves a little robotically and Soonyoung tugs him down onto the couch by the hand. Junhui is sitting opposite them on the floor, close enough to touch Jihoon’s leg if he wants to. It’s hard to tell if he’s nervous or not; he’s drinking wine directly from the bottle. Wonwoo watches his throat work through a swallow and thinks about wrapping a hand around his neck. It’s been so long.

“So...” Soonyoung starts, tapping out a beat on his thighs. “Ground rules?”

Jihoon makes a _go ahead_ motion with the hand holding his drink and Junhui shimmies his shoulders and smiles encouragingly. Still, Soonyoung hesitates. His mouth opens around a thought but he can’t seem to commit to it; the tapping on his thighs turns nervous; Wonwoo jumps in to help him before he has to ask.

“Soonyoung wants you to fuck him,” he tells Jihoon plainly. Soonyoung squeaks and Junhui’s head tips back in a loud peal of laughter.

Jihoon looks bashful, which is new, which makes Wonwoo sit up a little straighter, but then he takes a huge sip of his drink and nods. “Not surprising,” he says, voice gruff from the alcohol.

“Hey,” Soonyoung whines. “We switched it up sometimes.”

“Yeah, once,” Jihoon volleys. “You fingered me for five minutes before you got a cramp.”

“Does that count?” Junhui asks.

“I don’t think so,” Wonwoo says.

“Alright,” Soonyoung says loudly. “Point taken. Let the record show I am far more versatile than I used to be.”

Junhui holds his bottle up in cheers. “The jury will take it into consideration.”

Jihoon makes eye contact with Wonwoo while the others go on a tangent and he smiles like they’re sharing an inside joke. The attention makes Wonwoo feel warm. He doesn’t know Jihoon very well, but he likes him. Likes how witty he is, how easily he laughs, how he takes up space but is never demanding about it; how he lets Soonyoung care for him, how he cares for him in return. Wonwoo never would have accepted to do something like this if he didn’t trust everyone involved. And he doesn’t really know Jihoon, but he knows what it is to love Kwon Soonyoung, and that’s enough of a bridge to bring them here to this moment.

When the others calm, Jihoon tips his chin and asks, “What about you, Wonwoo? What do you want?”

Soonyoung preens. “He wants to watch.”

All the attention turns to Wonwoo. It’s becoming a pattern.

“Not the whole time,” he says to his drink. “But uh. Yeah.” He takes a deep breath and accidentally makes eye contact with Junhui who is smiling knowingly, and his stomach swoops, free-fall on a rollercoaster. “I mean, whatever you guys are comfortable with.”

“Well, how about this,” Junhui proposes, putting his wine bottle somewhere where it can’t be knocked over to join the other carpet stains, “We get naked and see where it goes, and if anyone doesn’t like something, they say so, and we stop. No questions asked.”

Soonyoung tears his shirt off. “Great plan.”

“Okay, eager,” Junhui says happily, walking over to him on his knees, “but I didn’t mean right away.” They all watch as Junhui nudges Soonyoung’s legs apart on the couch and fits himself between them, hipbones against the cushions. He drags his hands from Soonyoung’s kneecaps to the hem of his shorts, slow and purposeful, thumbs rubbing the insides of his thighs. Soonyoung’s stomach muscles twitch and Wonwoo’s body flushes at the sight and the memory of sensation, years old but still so familiar.

For all his frantic energy, Junhui likes to start off slowly. He’s the opposite of Soonyoung in that sense—Soonyoung sets a pace and demands to be kept up with. So it’s almost dizzying, watching Junhui take charge so quickly and naturally with Soonyoung; a wild animal held down by the neck. He pushes Soonyoung’s thighs open, wide as they’ll go, and Wonwoo is close enough that the movement brings Soonyoung’s right leg over his own thigh. He grabs hold, drags his own hand down Soonyoung’s shin to his ankle and back in reassurance.

“Flexible,” Junhui says, appreciative. Soonyoung’s ears go pink and Wonwoo kisses the shell of it.

“I’m a dancer,” Soonyoung says uselessly.

“Mm, I know,” Junhui’s hands burn a path over the tops of Soonyoung’s thighs and up to his stomach, pointedly avoiding where he’s getting hard in his shorts. Junhui maps him like that: his ribs, his nipples, his collarbone, each arm. Wonwoo never felt as obsessed over as he did when he was with Junhui.

When he gets to Soonyoung’s hands he holds eye contact and licks a stripe up the palm before taking his index and middle fingers into his mouth and sucking.

“Ah,” Soonyoung gasps, hips twitching off the couch.

Junhui forces them down with his other hand.

Someone else gasps, and it’s too unfamiliar to be anyone but Jihoon. Wonwoo looks past Junhui’s stretched out mouth to find him sitting too far away, palming himself through his slacks as he watches them.

This part is harder, because Wonwoo doesn’t know how to read Jihoon like he does the others, but he calls his name like an invitation, and Jihoon’s eyelids flutter, and it’s a start.

Junhui pulls off Soonyoung’s fingers. “Shorts off,” he tells him, then he stands up and pulls his loose button-up off over his head, revealing expanses of tanned skin and an impossible waist. The elastic of his boxers is peeking out over the band of his jeans and it’s stupid, how simple it is, but it turns Wonwoo’s mouth dry.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Soonyoung says for him.

“Thanks,” Junhui giggles. Comfortable as ever, he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off to the side. He’s half hard already, just from dragging his hands over Soonyoung’s skin and getting his fingers in his mouth, and Wonwoo would call it quick but he gets it; he’s flushed under his clothes, gut clenching like a fist.

Jihoon welcomes it when Junhui gets into his lap on the other couch. The wet sounds of kissing floats over the music, which has turned all slow and syrupy, like Jihoon knew exactly how this would go and crafted his playlist to fit. The idea takes Wonwoo out at the knees.

“Wow,” Soonyoung breathes beside him. He’s also down to his underwear now. He has one hand in his hair, and one playing with his bottom lip. His eyes are wide and fixated on the way Junhui has started to roll his hips against Jihoon’s, the contrast of his naked skin beautiful against the black of Jihoon’s clothes.

Wonwoo expected, because of Jihoon’s stature, that he’d be overtaken, drowned into disappearing by someone as broad and tall as Junhui, but he’s pleasantly surprised by the size of Jihoon’s hands on Junhui’s hips, his waist, his own shirt getting peeled off his shoulders to reveal far more muscle than Wonwoo was anticipating.

“I think I get it,” Soonyoung whispers.

“What?”

“The watching thing.” He looks back at Wonwoo with blown out pupils and a wet mouth, bottom lip pink from being toyed with.

They both move towards each other at the same time.

Wonwoo doesn’t know why it took so long, but finally they’re kissing, open mouthed and messy the way they both like, and Wonwoo’s hand gets into Soonyoung’s underwear, fingers wrapping around him and squeezing just enough to make Soonyoung whine into his mouth.

Soonyoung is greedy, impatient. He pulls Wonwoo’s hand out, spits into it, and guides it back to his dick, encouraging Wonwoo to move.

“Do you really wanna come like this?” Wonwoo asks against his jaw, biting a bruise on the side of his neck.

“Ugh, no,” Soonyoung sighs. He hiccups when Wonwoo speeds up a little and Wonwoo laughs into his ear. He turns to kiss Wonwoo again, bites down on his bottom lip, gets distracted. “Okay wait, slow down, I wanna—”

“You wanna what?” Wonwoo prompts, teasing. Soonyoung laughs and fucks his hips into his hand like he can’t help it, and Wonwoo kisses his cheek and almost forgets that they’re not alone. But Junhui’s back on his knees, now, and he’s got Jihoon’s pants around his ankles and his cock in his mouth, and the sight shocks Wonwoo into stillness.

Jihoon’s head is tipped back on the couch and his hand is like a brand on the back of Junhui’s neck as he bobs his head, steady and experienced.

Wonwoo needs to get his jeans off. Now.

Like they both had the thought at the same time, Soonyoung pulls his briefs off and slingshots them across the room, and then he gets to work on the fly of Wonwoo’s jeans with a smile so eager it pushes his cheeks up. And Wonwoo knows that this is all okay, because they talked it to death, weeks of it—went from riling each other up as a joke to using the suggestion of another body in their bed as a way to push each other over the edge—but he still wants to check.

“Hey. Soonyoung,” he says quietly, after Soonyoung pulls his shirt off, after he remerges with his hair in his eyes. Soonyoung pushes his fringe back and kisses him.

“I’m good,” he says against his mouth. “I want this.”

“Me too,” Wonwoo smiles, knocking their foreheads together. Soonyoung goes crosseyed. Wonwoo loves him.

“I’ll go get the stuff, be right back,” he says, then he’s gone, and it’s just the three of them and the sound of Jihoon’s cock hitting the back of Junhui’s throat.

Wonwoo is far enough into the headspace that he doesn’t feel shy about taking the steps to the other couch and dropping down onto it, one knee on the cushions by Jihoon’s hip.

Jihoon’s eyes are glazed over and his breathing is shallow, his bare chest strong and beautiful and flushed.

“Can I kiss you?” Wonwoo asks him. Jihoon nods a little frantically and Wonwoo bends down to bring their mouths together.

This is new. This is the third mouth he’s kissed in as many years.

It takes them a few moments to find something that works, because they’re not used to each other and Jihoon is panting so much that he forgets to concentrate, but that’s okay. Wonwoo likes overwhelmed—likes kissing boys when they’re a little dazed and gasping into it. This feels good, and it feels even better when Jihoon brings a palm to the front of his briefs to give him something to grind against.

“I’m gonna—Jun—” Jihoon chokes out a warning seconds before he comes, and Wonwoo doesn’t have to look away from Jihoon’s blissed out face to know that Junhui is swallowing.

“Freak,” Wonwoo tells him fondly, and Junhui winks before pulling back and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“I found them!” Soonyoung barges back into the room with an entire string of condoms and lube and his face falls. “Oh my god, did I miss it?”

Jihoon laughs likes his strings have been cut. 

They move to the floor. The wide sleeping mat that gets pulled over the rug where the coffee table usually sits was purchased just for tonight, but Jihoon and Junhui don’t have to know that. (Soonyoung’s suggestion for an inflatable mattress was vetoed on the spot. He sulked for the rest of the afternoon.)

Soonyoung manoeuvres Jihoon into the middle and gets into his lap. “Long time no see,” he says cheerfully.

Wonwoo feels a little jealous, a little possessive when he sees the way they fit together, practised and easy, Soonyoung’s pale thighs bracketing Jihoon’s naked hips, but it’s buried under too many layers of lust to really be a problem. If anything, it makes him feel even more turned on, and he’d feel guilty about it if he didn’t know Soonyoung was just as into it.

Jihoon says something under his breath and pulls Soonyoung into a rough kiss with a hand on his jaw. Soonyoung rolls his whole body into it, toes curling, fingers tugging on Jihoon’s dyed-silver hair.

“Does this mean I get you to myself for a while?” Junhui asks in his ear, pressing up against his back, the naked length of him hot against Wonwoo’s ass.

Wonwoo turns his head to look at him, but Junhui directs his face forward with firm fingers around jaw.

“Keep watching, Wonwoo-yah,” he says, quiet, demanding. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” His hand drops down to Wonwoo’s throat. Wonwoo arches into the touch, muscle memory, and Junhui laughs into his hair. “You haven’t changed,” he says.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Jihoon has Soonyoung on his back now, two fingers stretching him out, arm muscles flexing as he holds himself up.

“No,” Junhui replies, hands moving down to Wonwoo’s waist, over his stomach. “This is nice, though,” he says, fingers tracing the divots of his muscles. “Finally doing something other than just sitting at your computer, hm?”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo says, but it’s too breathless to do any damage. Soonyoung’s back arches as Jihoon adds another finger, as he leans over Soonyoung to kiss his neck, his chest. Their bodies rock together on the sleeping mat and it’s sharper than Soonyoung acts with Wonwoo, more bared teeth and bruising fingers, but it drives Wonwoo crazy to watch all the same.

Soonyoung’s head drops to the left and he makes eye contact with Wonwoo through the dark strands of his fringe. Wonwoo’s fingers twitch with the urge to nudge them back, but he’s just out of reach.

“Good?” Soonyoung asks, voice cracking in the middle as Jihoon does something different with his fingers.

Wonwoo nods, overwhelmed.

“Use your words,” Junhui nudges him up onto his knees and he flinches at the first finger that circles his rim, slick with lube. “Tell him how good he looks.”

“S’good, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo gasps as Junhui presses his finger in to the second knuckle; he holds Wonwoo up with a strong arm around his waist, chin hooked over his shoulder. “You look really hot.”

“Yeah?” Soonyoung grins.

“Don’t tell him that, he’ll never shut up,” Jihoon says. He moves away to pull a condom on himself and Wonwoo watches, absently licking his lips.

Soonyoung catches him staring and says, “Right?” He wriggles onto his front and lets Jihoon pull his hips up.

“What?” Jihoon says, cautious.

“Just caught Wonwoo staring at your big cock,” Soonyoung says theatrically. Junhui snorts a laugh into Wonwoo’s shoulder, the sound at odds with the way he’s fucking his beautiful fingers into Wonwoo.

“I like it better when we gagged you,” Jihoon says, kneading at Soonyoung’s ass before holding him open and pushing inside.

Wonwoo’s brain pauses and rewinds like a cassette. “You did what?”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says, cheek smushed against the mat, “Yeah. Forgot about that. _Fuck,_ ” he exhales when Jihoon bottoms out, hips twitching away only to get pulled back by Jihoon’s forceful grip on his hips. They make such a pretty picture together: Soonyoung’s back muscles dancing under his skin as Jihoon starts to move with fluid, confident, thrusts. They’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, and Wonwoo would feel bad about not turning a fan on somewhere before they started if he didn’t love the sight of it so much. Jihoon’s hair is hanging in strings over his forehead and Soonyoung’s spine is shining, inviting; Wonwoo wants to lick a line from base to tip; wants to taste him behind his teeth.

He brings a hand down to touch himself, gasping and fucking forward into the tight circle of his fist and then back onto Junhui’s fingers. Soonyoung whines when he notices. Jihoon has him up on his hands and knees now, and he’s fucking him quickly, fast enough to challenge his balance, the strength in his arms. But Soonyoung is giving as good as he’s getting, hips crashing back to meet every thrust, voice rising. Wonwoo doesn’t think they’ll last much longer.

“Junnie, can you—” He clings to the forearm locked across his belly until it dislodges, and he guides it upwards.

Junhui mouths at his earlobe and says, “Let’s make a deal.”

Soonyoung gasps, “There— _fuck_ —”

“Anything,” Wonwoo says, delirious with want. Junhui is too kind to ask anything terrible of him, anyway.

“I want you to eat me out afterwards. Can you do that?”

“He can do that,” Soonyoung answers for him. “He’s—oh—” He drops onto his forearms and lets his body be jostled, overwhelmed.

Wonwoo scrambles for his end of the deal, and Junhui gives it to him.

Soonyoung doesn’t like breathplay as much as Wonwoo might have hoped. He gets too in his head about it, worries that he’ll do something wrong, and it’s okay—they were never going to match up perfectly, there are some things Soonyoung likes that Wonwoo doesn’t—but fuck, does Wonwoo miss this.

He whines like he’s dying when Junhui’s fingers wrap around his throat.

His eyes start to flutter closed, but he fights it, battles the haze of pleasure like he’s tossing buckets of water on a forest fire. He holds on long enough to see Soonyoung come onto the sheets, watches Jihoon fuck him through it, fuck him past what is probably comfortable. Soonyoung’s cheeks are ruddy with exertion, his eyes shining with tears that hold on until the last second, when Jihoon’s hips fuck in one final time and still, his forehead pressed between Soonyoung’s shoulder blades as he comes.

Wonwoo groans when Junhui’s fingers crook inside him and Soonyoung looks at him, eyes wild. “Jihoon, off, off, I wanna—” He leaves Jihoon in a heap on the sheets and crawls over to Wonwoo, to kiss the tops of his thighs and his hipbones. Wonwoo finally pushes his hair out of his eyes, but his hand is shaking too much to be useful.

Soonyoung knows he’s close, so he doesn’t waste time with words. He sinks his mouth down Wonwoo’s flushed cock, and at the same time, Junhui pushes all three fingers in deep and tightens his hand around Wonwoo’s throat.

It’s an overload of the best kind. Wonwoo lets his chest go tight, lets the breath be stolen from him the way he steals it from himself sometimes, mouth covered with his own palm as he works a desperate hand over himself.

Soonyoung forces Wonwoo deep enough that his nose hits the hair at the base of his dick, and he gags loudly over the tip, because Wonwoo is predictable and the sound always helps him over the edge.

Tonight is no different.

Junhui lets up enough for a gasp of air and then he’s bearing down again, and Wonwoo comes with a full body shudder. He’s held up entirely by Junhui’s arms as he fucks Soonyoung’s throat through his orgasm. It’s intense enough to make him see stars, and that could be the lack of oxygen but Junhui has already let go, gently working him through the aftershocks with his fingers.

Soonyoung pulls off and kisses Wonwoo’s cock as it falls from his lips. He kisses a sloppy trail up Wonwoo’s abdomen until he reaches his mouth, and Wonwoo opens up obediently, lets Soonyoung push the traces of himself onto his tongue, bitter and unrelenting.

The kisses slow but they don’t stop; Soonyoung is clingy after he comes; Wonwoo isn’t sure why he’s surprised it extends to group sex.

“I’ll leave him in your care, then,” Jihoon says from where he’s starfished on the sheets, underwear pulled back on.

Wonwoo doesn’t even notice that Junhui has pulled away until the cool hair hits his back. “But our deal,” he says around the corner of Soonyoung’s mouth.

“Jihoon looks capable,” Junhui says, tilting his words like a question.

“Of?” Jihoon asks, running a curious palm up the inside of Junhui’s thigh, fingers grazing his balls. 

“Lying still.” Junhui turns and swings a leg over his body, slow enough that the intention is obvious. Jihoon’s teeth come out in a grin and one hand finds a home on Junhui’s ass, the other on his hip. He guides Junhui back and down, opening him mouth wide and encouraging him to sit. From this angle, it’s hard to see exactly what Jihoon is doing, but Wonwoo watches Junhui’s face break open and imagines it pretty easily.

“Shit,” Junhui laughs, one hand coming to rest on Jihoon’s sternum for balance.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says, a dreamy edge to his tone. Wonwoo can’t help but feel a little jealous. Soonyoung laughs at his expression. “Sorry. You’re also good at that.”

“Not as good as this,” Junhui says bluntly. His voice has gone high and reedy, almost unrecognisable. Wonwoo only made him sound like that once over their whole relationship. Now he’s _really_ jealous.

Soonyoung kisses the scowl off his face as Junhui falls apart beside them.

Wonwoo loses rock, paper, scissors and has to go fetch a washcloth for Soonyoung and wet wipes for the others. Soonyoung pretends to be asleep so that he doesn’t have to do anything himself, and Jihoon steals the washcloth out of Wonwoo’s hands so that he can whip Soonyoung’s bare thigh with it. Junhui laughs so hard that he cries, and Wonwoo is bowled sideways by how easy it all feels.

“This was fun,” Junhui says once he’s dressed again. Neither of them are staying, despite Soonyoung’s profuse offers. Jihoon seems particular about his boundaries, and Junhui says he’d rather go home and play games than play third wheel. “Love you though,” he added after he said it.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Thank you. Both of you. You’re really cool.”

Jihoon snorts. When Wonwoo meets his eye over Soonyoung’s shoulder, he offers a closed-mouth smile that is returned so easily that Wonwoo wonders how he was ever intimidated by him.

“You’re cute together,” Junhui says sweetly, smacking a loud kiss between Soonyoung’s brows before shoving his bare feet into his Vans. Gross. “Don’t fuck it up, Jeon Wonwoo.”

“What? Why me?” Wonwoo yelps indignantly.

“I don’t know, I trust him more,” Junhui says, and Soonyoung cackles, all high and delighted.

“That’s your first mistake,” Jihoon says.

Soonyoung sticks his tongue out and Jihoon pretends to snatch it. He giggles cutely when Soonyoung goes along with it, clutching his throat and gurgling. Wonwoo catches him when he pretends to faint.

“Bye,” he calls as the others walk out the door. “Thanks. Really.”

Junhui winks, and then they’re gone.

“Are we alone?” Soonyoung whispers.

“Yes,” Wonwoo whispers back.

Soonyoung springs back to life and spins around. “How do you feel?”

Wonwoo takes stock of himself. He’s a bit tired, sore in a good way, and his chest feels lighter than he expected. “It was fun,” he says honestly. “But...”

“But?”

“I um. Don’t think I want to do it again?”

“Thank fuck,” Soonyoung says, “Catch me.” He jumps into Wonwoo’s arms and wraps his legs around Wonwoo’s waist. Wonwoo stumbles a little, laughing, but he stabilises enough to hitch Soonyoung up with his hands under his thighs. “I love you,” Soonyoung continues, “And I loved that, but I think I like just us better.”

Wonwoo feels stupid with affection. “Me too,” he says. Soonyoung kisses his smile, his sensitive mouth, and they stay like that until Wonwoo has to admit defeat and let Soonyoung down before his knees buckle.

Soonyoung pokes his biceps and calls him a fraud, and Wonwoo just kisses him some more.

**Author's Note:**

> :D


End file.
